


Perfection

by FreeShavocadoo



Category: HiGH&LOW (Movies), HiGH&LOW: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV)
Genre: Agender Character, Domestic Fluff, Other, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Trans Male Character, Yakuza Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 19:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15713688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeShavocadoo/pseuds/FreeShavocadoo
Summary: Nikaido for some reason, always does exactly what Ryu wants him to. Nikaido doesn't think he'd have it any other way, though.





	Perfection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [byakuyakuchiki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/byakuyakuchiki/gifts).



It wasn’t that Nikaido didn’t _try_ to be empathetic, it was just that his version of the word was much more subdued than the average person, finding himself overwhelmed with his inadequacy when it came to his emotionality. His version of attentiveness was flinging a blanket over his partner when they got cold, knowing that they had a tendency to fall asleep after a long day of work and putting up with men who seemed to revel in their own stupidity. If there was one thing he was good at though, it was keeping their prying eyes from his partner, hating the leering stares that perverted old men always seemed to shoot in their direction, as though they had some kind of claim over them.

_The nerve._

“What are you doing?”

Nikaido turns, gifted with the beautiful sight of a sleepy Ryu, their hair curled in every direction possible as they rub sleep from their eyes with the sleeve of their long black jumper, droopy eyes staring right at Nikaido.

“I don’t know how to do this.” Nikaido sighs, annoyed that he has to admit defeat in front of the one person he wants to be the strongest in front of. He knows that Ryu doesn’t have a malevolent bone in their body towards Nikaido, unlike their dislike for most other people. Yet still, he’s plagued by the same feelings of insecurity he’d had as a teenager all those years ago.

“You don’t know how….to use a washing machine?” Ryu pauses, their face a blank mask until they grip onto their stomach and laugh so hard they have to swing forwards, hands braced on their knees as they wheeze. “How can you not know how to use a _washing machine?_ ”

“Stop laughing at me!” Nikaido huffs, having spent half an hour already trying to decipher the different meanings of the excessive buttons, wondering why there isn’t just an off and on button and that’s it. It’s worse when he considers that the last time he’d tried, he’d put dishwashing liquid in the tray by accident and the suds and bubbles had poured out everywhere, all over their kitchen floor. Ryu had been surprisingly good-natured about it, laughing at Nikaido’s incompetence and saying that they’d tell him eventually how to do it. Unfortunately, they hadn’t, meaning that Nikaido’s attempt at a good deed to lessen the household burden on Ryu had resulted in him being caught in the act. Caught being an idiot.

“It’s okay, I can show you now.” Ryu shuffles over to the washing machine, still chuckling softly under their breath, looking more awake than they had moments earlier. “Don’t look so disappointed in yourself. It’s fine.”

“I’m not disappointed.” Nikaido sulks, feigning disinterest but watching with razor-sharp attentiveness as Ryu pointed out the different settings, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Right. Now you do it.” Ryu motions to the washing machine, turning to look at Nikaido, their eyes twinkling a little bit in a way that made Nikaido want to forgo the washing entirely and just have sex with them on the kitchen floor for the billionth time. Sadly, he decided to be _attentive_. _Urgh._

He begins turning the dials, pressing what he assumes is the appropriate buttons with the occasional interjection from Ryu. Finally he adds the correct detergent, with approving sounds from Ryu, pressing the start button. When he turns with a triumphant grin, Ryu smiles softly, their face not shrouded by their hair, presumably due to their habit of running their fingers through it when they were deep in thought.

“Hmm. So radiant.” Nikaido hums against Ryu’s neck, kissing it gently before moving his head up to stare at Ryu’s face, still lost in the feeling of thankfulness and appreciation at being able to be so close to someone so beautiful.

“Stop-,” Ryu whines, pushing Nikaido’s head away from them but smiling, always looking far younger than their years when doing so, with twinkling eyes and a lip-biting smile.

“Why would I do that?” Nikaido asks honestly, circling his arms around Ryu’s waist and staring at them with utter adoration, something he’d never have considered himself capable of until Ryu entered his life and stole his heart.

 _Great._ Nikaido thinks. _Now I even **think** embarrassing and cliché things._

“Because you’re being _embarrassing_.” Ryu teases, hiding their face in his neck and nuzzling softly, always curling up comfortably into Nikaido’s touch, like they were always meant to be in Nikaido’s arms. Nikaido would never admit that he thought Ryu was always meant to be in his arms, though. Even if he’d thought it from one of their first meetings.

 

* * *

 

 

_Nikaido didn’t need to hear the scene to recognise what was going on, it was a familiar and all too commonplace conversation around Kuryu group headquarters, considering the inhabitants. The older Yakuza men all had the same air of hyper-masculinity and aggression, each wanting to prove themselves with stereotypical shows of power and brutish behaviour. It made Nikaido want to rip all of their heads off, one by one, no more so than now when he sees Ryu Tatsuhito practically cornered against the wall by two of the men from Iemura group, their tones indicating more than enough about what they were most likely saying. ‘Teasing’ Ryu, attempting to belittle them under the assumption that they wouldn’t retaliate. Even Nikaido knew this was a colossal mistake, simply standing back to enjoy what was about to unfold._

_One of the men takes a step forward, the condescending tone in his voice being the last nail in the coffin as Ryu slides a flick-knife out of their pocket at a startling speed, moving it up to the speakers’ neck with a calm smile._

_“Say it again.” They say, their eyes dark and the hand holding the knife moving closer to the man’s neck, prodding ever so slightly._

_“I think you’re taking it too far-,” he spits out, the knife pressing against his throat now, the indent starting to show though the skin is yet to be broken._

_“I don’t think that they are taking it far enough.” Nikaido walks over, eyeing the man in front of him, another incompetent follower. Old-school, not much of a thinker or a doer in Nikaido’s opinion, though Iemura assures him that he’s required, so Nikaido usually refrains from bringing it up. Though that doesn’t mean he can’t publicly humiliate him once in a while. “If you act like an incompetent moron, you should be treated like one.”_

_“It’s none of your business, so why don’t you crawl back up Iemura’s-,” the second man begins, silenced by Nikaido’s swift hand movement against the man’s neck, a chopping motion right on his throat causing him to make a choking noise before dropping to the floor with his hands up to his neck, gasping._

_“Apologise and leave, or suffer. It’s your choice.” Nikaido looks at the two men with barely veiled annoyance, knowing that his temper is explosive but at least it comes with the benefit of not being trifled with on most occasions. The two men stand up fully, one stepping backwards from Ryu’s knife as they bow and murmur apologies, walking off at a fast pace. Nikaido doesn’t doubt they’ll be cursing him behind his back, as though he cares. Better he take the brunt of their annoyance than the young Yakuza heir._

_“You didn’t have to step in.” Ryu says, putting their knife back into their pocket with a huff, their hair fanning around their face with the outtake of breath._

_“Perhaps I wanted to.” Nikaido replies, smiling, looking ever the predator with a sharp gaze and sharper teeth._

_“Oh.” Ryu says, their voice suddenly smaller and a flush creeping across their high cheekbones, as though the attention they’ve drawn from pulling a knife out was nothing compared to Nikaido’s intense stare, his blatant flirtation. Nikaido finds it ridiculously endearing._

_“Perhaps next time you should just keep the knife out before they start.” Nikaido suggests, straightening out his own scarf and suit as he turns to look at Ryu once more, their cheeks still slightly pink. Nikaido’s lips turn upwards once more, wondering why it took Ryu brandishing a flick-knife for Nikaido to truly notice them beyond the superficial._

_“If they know what’s good for them, next time they won’t start.” Ryu says haughtily, turning on their heel abruptly only to turn back at the last second. “Thank you.”_

_“You don’t have to thank me.” Nikaido moves some of Ryu’s hair behind their ear, so gently that Ryu shudders at the contact and then looks even more embarrassed._

_“Fine!” Ryu scowls, marching off in what Nikaido thinks is the cutest display of annoyance he’s ever seen. It’s hard, he thinks, to match up the image of them with a knife against someone’s throat and the image of them throwing a strop right now as they disappear down the corridor, their stomping still audible for a few more seconds._

* * *

“I need your help with something.” Ryu stares at Nikaido, their dark eyes making Nikaido’s stomach almost flutter.

“Anything.” Nikaido kisses Ryu’s cheek, resting his forehead against Ryu’s for a moment and then staring at them, his heart completely full, tender to the moment and the feeling of his arms around Ryu’s tiny waist and the feeling of their soft little breaths against his neck.

“I was going through my wardrobe and sorting through my clothes,” Ryu begins, Nikaido nodding, more than aware that between the two of them, their wardrobe is excessive due to how particular they both are, “and….I can’t reach the top.”

Nikaido can’t hold in his laughter, covering his mouth as he practically _giggles_ at the hilarity of the ever-serious Ryu standing on their tiptoes to reach the storage at the top of the wardrobe, no doubt getting frustrated and swearing under their breath. Nikaido knows from experience that Ryu usually needs a chair to reach the top of the wardrobe, which just seems to make the situation funnier until Ryu shoots him a downright _furious_ glance, their arms folded.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go now, tell me what you need.” Nikaido relents, shaking their head at how easily Ryu wins arguments, especially when people usually cite Nikaido as the more intimidating or aggressive of the two. How wrong they all were.

“Good.” Ryu smiles, though it is more of an intimidating smile than anything, walking with their arms still folded and not even glancing back at Nikaido as they walk into their shared room.

Evidence of both of their personal styles can be seen in the room, though they both share a more minimalist approach with furniture. Most of their furniture is black or marbled, with white furniture to offset. The curtains are thick to block out the sun in the morning, with Ryu always so tired when they go to sleep that Nikaido ensured they wouldn’t be woken by the sun when sleeping at odd hours. Ryu favoured paintings on the wall, old-fashioned prints and calligraphy style canvases too. Nikaido liked to have extra blankets, liking being bundled under multiple blankets when he slept. Ryu had been the one to put their wardrobes into order, although Nikaido was more than competent, Ryu insisted that they should do it. As a result, Nikaido’s scarves and suits were meticulously ordered and displayed, all by colour and pattern combinations.

“Right, what is it you’re looking for?” Nikaido asks, opening the wardrobe doors and glancing back at Ryu who’s seated on the edge of the bed, looking oddly small in comparison to the large bed and mass of blankets.

“All of my jumpers that I moved up there in summer. It’s cold now.” Ryu replies, reiterating their point when they wrap a blanket around their shoulders, looking snug.

“Okay, darling.” Nikaido replies, wondering at what point in his life he became such a slave to one person’s words, never being able to refuse anything Ryu asked him. He has to stretch to reach the jumpers and throughout the process, Ryu adds in the occasional command such as, _I don’t want that one put it back,_ or, _those are actually yours but you don’t wear them even though I bought them for you_ , accompanied by a sharp glare. Thankfully, the process is complete after fifteen gruelling minutes, Nikaido neatly refolding some of the jumpers that had unfolded and placing them carefully in Ryu’s wardrobe. To prove a point, he takes one of them and places it on the bed, removing his own shirt and pulling the jumper over his head. Though they are completely different in size, Ryu’s tendency to buy jumpers almost double their size means it almost fits Nikaido perfectly, the fabric soft and instantly making him warm.

Ryu’s soft _ooh_ makes him turn, their mouth slightly open and their eyes unfocused, as though they’ve lost their train of thought entirely. When Nikaido strolls forward until he’s standing in front of Ryu, seated on the edge of the bed still, he stretches. Ryu’s fingers instantly move out to brush over Nikaido’s tattoos, invisible to everyone in his usual attire. The tattoos span all over his back, down his shoulders and arms and curve upwards from his hips. The patterns vary from flowers, to petals, to masks and kanji. Colour and black and white. Like Nikaido himself, they were a mixture of old and new, the tattoos covering the scars under his pectoral muscles, so much so that one would only be able to see them if their eyes were an inch away. Ryu’s fingers always danced delicately over the area, the same way their fingers would gently trace over the rest of his tattoos.

“You’re feeling oddly sentimental today.” Nikaido notes, moving his hands over Ryu’s as their hands move under Nikaido’s jumper, up and down over the black lines, a tantalising touch by all accounts, only made better by Ryu’s intense stare.

“So what if I am?” They say, kissing over Nikaido’s belly button and smiling up at him from their seated position. The harsh contrast of such a sexual gesture paired with the intimacy of the closeness and the shyness of Ryu’s smile is overwhelming for Nikaido, in the best way possible.

“I love you.” Nikaido’s tone is factual, like there is no possibility for an alternative, no possibility for change in his statement. For Nikaido, there wasn’t- he’d move the sun and moon for Ryu and they knew it, yet never manipulated him the way past partners had when he’d shown any measure of devotion. Ryu was always what he’d needed, soft when they wanted to be and firm when they needed to be.

“I love you too.” Ryu replies, pressing their cheek against Nikaido’s abdomen, their arms circled around his waist. Nikaido instinctually runs his fingers through their hair, loving the soft sighs of appreciation he gets in return. Nobody would ever compare to them, in Nikaido’s eyes. They’d already turned him into a soppy romantic, after all, that in of itself was a big achievement.

There wasn’t any going back now, though Nikaido isn’t sure he’d ever want to consider a life without **his** Ryu.

**Author's Note:**

> For my very special friend whom I hope feels better soon!


End file.
